


Don't Go To Strangers

by princessgolux



Category: Stargate SG-1, due South
Genre: Crossover, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-22
Updated: 2004-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessgolux/pseuds/princessgolux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel contemplates Frasier.  Jack contemplates Frasercide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go To Strangers

****

**Don't Go To Strangers**

 

 __

Build your dreams/To the stars above  
But when you need/someone true to love  
Don't go to strangers…  
….baby, come home to me. 

 

 

The harsh industrial lighting of Stargate Command ruthlessly flattened out most features. Most human beings looked a little raw under the bright white fluorescents, imperfections brought brutally to the surface. Even Carter wore make-up here, in this cannibalized missile silo, striving to combat the glare that made everyone it touched look as sadly human as the next guy. Or, girl. Or, given the SGC's wacky alien drop-ins, the next whatever.

So at the end of the day there was only one conclusion that any sane, rational human being could arrive at.

Sergeant Benton Fraser, RCMP, was most assuredly _not_ human.

Jack uncrossed his legs, switched hands, and began doodling with his left hand. It was either that or begin asking untoward questions of the delegation from Canada. Questions like, how the hell did the skinny blond guy from Chicago get into this outfit. And, how small were their collective dicks going to be by the time that Thatcher chick was done. And who the hell let a _wolf_ in here?

But the most pressing question, the one that Jack knew would get his ass canned if he let it slip from his mouth, was "What the hell species _is_ Benton Fraser? 'Cause no human being _ever_ looked good under these lights."

Jack didn't count Daniel, 'cause he was honest enough to know he had no perspective where that kid was concerned. As long as he wasn't dying or glowing or screaming about the aliens in his head, Daniel was always going to be beautiful. Lighting really didn't matter. Occasionally, Jack had found himself zoning in meetings because he'd been subconsciously counting Danny's breaths.

Danny breathing? Most beautiful thing ever.

Of course, this Fraser guy was taking a strong second in the 'objective beauty' line. He managed to look amazing, even under the awful industrial bulbs that illuminated every inch of the SGC.

The women of Stargate Command seemed ready to jump the guy in the Gate room, the commissary, the briefing room – really, there was no place Sgt. Fraser went that there didn't seem to be an _amazing_ number of on and off duty female personnel. Even a few male personnel, trying desperately not to be noticed. And the physician who did his mandatory physical came completely unglued later and was sent home, muttering something about brutes with otters.

Even Carter had a dazed look in her eye most of the day. She held out longer than most, but when he started discussing practical designs for various types of naquadria reactors, she broke down and began following him like the wolf at his feet.

Actually, Jack thought the wolf seemed far more laissez-faire.

All of this was fine, it was whatever. Jack could deal with all of this. But somehow, someway, Benton Fraser had managed what Jack had heretofore believed impossible.

He had enchanted Daniel Jackson.

Now, Jack knew Daniel was a little hinky. He was always running off and finding the worst women to hook up with. Granted, Shau'ri had been a find. She was once a beautiful, strong woman who'd loved Daniel. Jack had all kinds of respect for that. But since she'd been Goa'ulded, Daniel had gone tripping down the Garden Path of Hell.

Jack had a theory about that, too. See, he figured that Daniel didn't want to mess with his memories of Shau'ri, so he ignored the ladies until one came along that was too powerful to ignore. There had been Sarah (who had become the Goa'uld Osirus and tried to kill them all) and Kyra (The amnesiac Destroyer of Worlds) and that pretty one who'd gotten Danny addicted to the sarcophagus so he couldn't leave her. Let's not forget the Goa'ulded Shau'ri who kept coming back and screwing with Danny's mind. Oh, and that bitch Hathor, who'd pretty much raped the kid.

So Daniel was, in all probability, not ever going to get into a real, working relationship. Subconsciously he probably believed that any woman he got involved with would either end up _being_ evil or _getting_ evil-ified. And his track record totally supported that.

Yep, Jack had pretty much figured that Daniel was safe.

And that meant, of course, that Daniel was all _his_.

And then along came that damned inhumanly pretty Benton Fraser.

And Dr. Daniel Jackson, he of the 23 languages and multiple PhD's, was hanging on his every word, going to lunch with him, subtly (and not-so-subtly) competing with Sam (!?)

Daniel the snarky, Daniel the bitchy, his very own Dannyboy, had a huge, violent man-crush on that goddamed alien policeman.

Jack switched hands again, now doodling with his right hand. He waited for a moment, but there was no reaction. Daniel didn't frown or kick him or make a snarky comment degrading Jack's diplomatic skills. In fact, Daniel didn't even _notice._

Jack decided Fraser must die.

Or at least go back to Canada really, really soon.

 

* * * *

 

Ray watched the military people lose their shit over Fraser. It was to be expected, really. Everyone lost their shit over Fraser. That's the way it worked.

Still, it was kind of funny.

OK, so, mostly it was funny. That one guy, that Col. O'Neill guy? That guy worried Ray. He worried Ray a lot. 'Cause he wasn't happy about the Fraser Effect. He was downright pissed.

Ray tried to warn Fraser.

"Just…you know…be careful, Frase." he muttered.

They were standing in a supply closet with Thatcher standing outside. She didn't understand why they always seemed to go into closets to have conversations, but the Prime Minister himself had appointed Fraser to be Canada's main negotiator for information about the Stargate, so she had no real choice but to ignore his peccadilloes.

"Now, Ray," Fraser said in his 'let's be reasonable' tone of voice. "I'm sure that Col. O'Neill is a fine officer and would never harm an ally."

Ray hated that tone of voice. "Yeah, you're probably right, but you know, my gut's saying somethin' ain't right here, you know? Something's queer."

Fraser raised an eyebrow.

"Freak." Ray said, but his lip twitched.

 

* * * *

When they emerged with their accustomed feigned nonchalance, Fraser was immediately struck by the high color on the cheeks of both Inspector Thatcher and Major Carter. He wasn't sure why both women were blushing, but Ray's sudden grin indicated that his partner had once again intuited something he had been unable to deduce.

He shot a querying look at his partner, but Ray simply shook his head and muttered a cryptic sentence.

What in the world did 'two down' mean, anyway?

He filed the line away to ask Ray later that night, once they were alone. Of course, that thought brought the color creeping up his neck. The newness and rawness of his relationship with Ray still caught him off-guard, sense-memory ambushing him in the most inappropriate of places.

Like the negotiating table.

Ray noticed immediately, of course. He turned his back to the assembled delegates and let Fraser see his desire, one hot bright flash in Fraser's direction, before he banked his gaze and sank into a seat near the edge, Dief lolling under his chair.

Fraser cleared his throat and made his way a bit stiffly to his seat.

As he sat, Dr. Jackson came up next to him.

 _Wonderful man, there._

Fraser was pleased by the scope and breadth of Dr. Jackson's academic exploits. He felt honored to be able to converse with so learned a scholar.

As the other delegates began seating themselves, Fraser began chatting with Dr. Jackson in a rapidly changing mixture of languages. Cantonese, Thai, and Farsi; Egyptian Arabic evolving into Lebanese Arabic (a favorite of Fraser's); Russian, Italian, and lastly Navajo.

Fraser was on Cloud Nine, as they say.

He was so caught up in his polylingual conversation that he missed two very important looks.

 

* * * *

 _Damn hinky aliens with their all-language-speaking ways._

Briefly, sadly, Jack wondered if maybe Fraser actually _was_ the only other refugee from Plant Daniel they'd ever found. Maybe he was being selfish, trying to separate the two. After all, Daniel was so damned lonely.

The altruistic moment passed quickly.

 _Of course it's selfish. It's me, for cryin' out loud._

He began making plans for Benton Fraser's disappearance and demise.

He'd been Special Forces. He'd done a number of damned distasteful things for his country. Surely God wouldn't judge him any more harshly if he just got this one thing for himself, right?

Jack hummed to himself and began mentally sketching out his plans for remains disposal.

First they just had to get through lunch.

 

* * * *

 

 _That's it._ Ray thought. _I can feel it._

He kept his eyes vague and glazed over and covertly studied the gray-haired Col watching Dr. Jackson like a fucking hawk.

Three days ago he'd been worried about the exact same thing. He shifted restlessly in his seat, physical reminders echoing through his flesh.

Fraser had nullified that fear. Fairly emphatically, in fact; Ray shifted again and winced.

No, Fraser might get a hard-on from talking to that pretty linguist, but when this day was over, it was Ray's bed he'd be getting into. Ray had no more fears on that front.

At least, not today.

That O'Neill guy, however…he was so hot for that Dr. Daniel geek it was pathetic. That's why he kept glaring at Fraser.

But Ray was picking up other things as well.

Dr. Daniel? Sure, he really liked Fraser. Heck, who didn't? But the Col was the one he looked to when things got stuck. That O'Neill guy was the one he kept glancing at, making sure everything was all right.

Granted, most everyone did that. This was a military base and even though General Hammond was in charge, Col. O'Neill was the Second in Command and headed up the main Exploration team. Of course everyone looked at him.

But as the negotiations ground to their inescapable conclusion, Ray saw more than the 'am I fucking up' look. He saw _communication._ When Jackson and O'Neill looked at each other, they had whole _conversations._ In fact, a couple of times Ray was sure they'd had short, intense _arguments._

Daniel always won. He had much better glare control, and O'Neill was handicapped by Daniel's secondary focus on Fraser. It was hard to win a silent glare contest when your opponent kept switching his doe eyes to the guy next to him.

As the talks wrapped up, Ray could see that the doctor guy's head was obviously insisting he should be going for Fraser, but it was also kind of obvious his heart was already taken and he just didn't know it.

Ray absently scratched Dief, who whined.

"Yeah." Ray whispered to him. "It _is_ sort of queer when you think about it."

 

* * * *

 

Daniel Jackson was having the time of his life.

Benton Fraser was articulate, engaging, literate, and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. They'd hit it off from the get-go and Daniel hadn't seen one single evil tendency the whole time. In fact, rumor had it that the reason the Canadian government had sent this guy was that he was so wholesome they thought he'd be incorruptible. Or something like that, anyway.

So here he was…about to leave.

 _Shit._

"Um…" he thought fast, "Let me walk you to your car. We can talk some more about those Inuit masks. It reminds me of certain rituals on P4X-390…"

The two men made their way to the elevator.

 

* * * *

 

"Col. O'Neill!" The skinny blond – Kawalsky, that was his name. Kawalsky, like Charlie who'd gone to Abydos with them…only…shit. With an 'i'.

Damn mission briefings.

Kawalski was chasing after him. Jack turned, but looked impatient.

"Yeeesss?" He drawled, shooting the lean blond his patented, 'I'm busy doing anything but talking to you' glare.

It didn't work.

"Just wanted to say, good negotiating." The guy looked a little lost after he said that, and then he straightened up and looked a _lot_ determined.

Jack blinked.

This was not the usual response to his diplomatic skills.

Such as they were.

"I'm sure your team appreciates your skills every day. I mean, not the diplomatic skills, although I'm sure they're useful…but the other skills, you know?"

Jack opened his mouth to say _Whaaa?_

Ray continued, barely pausing for breath, "I mean, when we're out somewhere in the cold and the ice, I can't help but be glad Fraser's got a compass and a sextant. Took me forever to figure out what a sextant was, I tell you, and to this day I maintain that it sounds a bit naughty…"

"Do you," Jack said quellingly, "have a point?"

"Yes," he said quickly, "Just that I always know he'll get us home."

Jack blinked.

"And…and your team knows the same for you."

"Yes?" Jack wasn't sure why all this was relevant.

The blond smiled at him. He had somehow gotten right up into Jack's personal space, no mean feat. There was something oddly… _solid_ about the guy.

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice and looking directly into Jack's eyes. "See…Frase and I are gonna go home after this."

His deep blue eyes had strange gold flecks that caught the white, white industrial lights and glittered.

"We're gonna go back to the snow and the dogs and the bad guys with the freaky names who inevitably show up wherever Fraser is. We're gonna go north until there's nothing around for miles but snow so deep you could fall from an airplane into it and you wouldn't die…"

"Once again…point?"

The thin cop gave a slow, intense smile. "The thing is – Fraser's got kind of what you'd call a 'magnetic personality.'" He rolled his eyes in emphasis. "I seen more people get tangled up in Frase, I tell you. And when he's gone, back to the snow and the dogs, back with _me_ …" there was just the slightest stress on that word, but Jack's ears picked it up like it had been shouted, "…they sometimes get a little…lost. They don't always know which way is home."

He looked at the Air Force Col. "But I don't worry about your team." And 'team' sounded far more specific all of a sudden. "Because he – they know that in the end, no matter who else comes in here, _you're_ it. You _are_ the way home."

The guy sort of wound down at that point, still looking at Jack from under dark lashes, that intent, _pointed_ look in his eyes.

Jack blinked. After a second of painful silence he came up with, "OK."

This was apparently good enough as the other man nodded sharply and took off. Leaving Jack to think about his speech.

His insane but…kinda _touching_ speech.

Jack made his way toward his office, whistling under his breath. And against his own better judgment he let himself hope that Daniel would, in fact, see him as home.

 

* * * *

 

 __

Make your mark/For the world to see  
But when you need more than company  
Don't go to strangers…  
…baby come home to me.

 

O'Malley's bar was comfortingly smoky and crowded. He listened to Daniel chatter about inane things, getting drunker and drunker. Contrary to popular belief, Daniel was actually quite adept at holding his liquor, a legacy of learning to drink across more cultures than Jack cared to think about.

Tonight none of it seemed to matter, however. Daniel kept drinking and chattering and saying _nothing_. Jack was getting progressively tenser.

"Daniel." he burst out, finally breaking the carefully constructed façade of camaraderie. "What the hell is going on?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Don't ask." Daniel said finally, sounding far less drunk than he had a moment ago. The words fell flat, Jack's ears hearing the meaning Daniel thought would elude him.

 _At least I'm fluent in Danny-speak._ he thought grimly. _Take that, pretty Canadian guy._

Jack wracked his brain for something to say that would soothe the hurt he could hear, whether Daniel meant him to or not.

"Maybe the Canadians will stay longer, y'know, if we ask?"

Daniel looked shocked.

That…wasn't it. _Wrong answer…wrong answer…_

Jack backpedaled frantically.

"Not that it was…obvious…or anything?"

Shocked became aghast.

This was _not_ going well.

"Jack, if you could pick up on it I might as well shoot myself right now." Daniel said bitterly. He swallowed a shot of bourbon, wincing at the burn, and added in a choked voice, "Or at least resign."

"Ray said…I didn't…" Jack grimaced, "Shit…that's not true…I only picked up on it because…"

Now he was completely stuck.

'Because I wanted to kill Fraser' would only start a conversation neither one of them should be having if they intended to stay employed by the US Air Force. But it was the truth, and Daniel knew him too well.

Jack opened his mouth to lie and nothing came out.

After a moment, Daniel blinked. "Jack. You only picked up on it because…"

"Forget it." Jack stood and began to put on his jacket. "You're crazy to have this conversation here and I'm crazy to have it at all."

A hand on his arm stopped him. Knowing it was the worst thing he could do right then, he looked down at his teammate. Daniel's soft blue eyes were measuring him somehow, and Jack suddenly felt strangely transparent. Daniel looked into him, studied him like a compass. All the reasons why he needed to go, run, flee, poured down Jack's spine like ice water, raising gooseflesh on the backs of his arms.

But then Daniel opened his mouth, and Jack was lost.

"Jack…"

"Put on your jacket," Jack cut him off, surrendering to the inevitable, "and let's go home."

It was only later, halfway there, that he realized that Daniel had made no protest when Jack had called the O'Neill house 'home.'

 

* * * *

 

 __

For when you hear a call/To follow your heart  
You follow your heart, I know.

 

Daniel stoked the fire as Jack ran the bug killer through the house, room by room. They were all clean. Daniel stood next to the kitchen counter as Jack opened a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

Daniel took his and gazed at the wine for a moment, as if he could get more courage from watching the alcohol than drinking it.

Finally, without looking up, he simply said, "Jack," one more time. It wasn't much, but his voice was low and dark and he sounded lost and hungry.

It was enough.

Jack came over and took the glass out of Daniel's hands. He set their wine glasses to the side and tipped Daniel's face up, up to the light. He took off Daniel's glasses. The blue, blue eyes met his without fear or curiosity, strangely intent but strangely unsurprised now.

He ran his hands around the known and comforting curve of Daniel's face.

"Ray said a lot of people respond to Fraser as a sort of magnetic north." he mused, hands tracing the map of Daniel's face. "And how could you not, right? I mean he's attractive, speaks a zillion languages, is unfailingly polite to cats and widows…he probably even does his paperwork on time."

As Jack talked, his hands began to wander, stroking through Daniel's hair and down his neck, feathering over his collarbone and rubbing the top of his spine soothingly. Daniel kept his eyes fixed on Jack's face the whole time, his eyes soft and vulnerable without his glasses. Jack could swear Danny's eyes were getting bluer by the minute and his stomach clenched.

The tension was rising and so was Jack. He swallowed hard, his breathing getting harsher, his touch firming. He dug his nails in a little, right against the curve of Daniel's pectoral muscle and Daniel's eyelids fluttered. "Jack…" he whispered, his own breath coming quicker.

"The thing is, Daniel," Jack stepped a little closer, stroking across Daniel's chest and rubbing back up his throat, his thumbs steady under Daniel's chin, "I _get_ all that," his voice dropped to a whisper, "and I _still_ want to kill him."

Daniel moaned a little, leaning into Jack's hands. His own were fisted at his sides and his eyes kept fluttering closed. His t-shirt was tight and Jack could see his nipples standing up under the thin cloth. It made the back of his throat tight.

"I want to take him out back and _shoot_ him, Danny." Jack fisted one hand in Daniel's hair and then stroked it quickly, soothing the small hurt he caused. "All I could think was that you never looked at _me_ like that."

He cradled Danny's head with one hand and rubbed at his mouth with his thumb. As Daniel moaned again, Jack slipped his thumb inside Daniel's mouth and began drawing saliva out, wetting Daniel's lips again and again. Daniel closed his eyes and kept them closed. His tongue darted out, following the rough digit and Jack's breathing hitched as Daniel caught Jack's thumb with a slow, wet swipe.

"I wanted it to be _me._ " he said again, sounding louder and more frustrated and almost angry.

His other hand stroked down Daniel's throat and hovered for a second, ghosting over the pulse point before skimming down to one defined pectoral.

" _I wanted it to be me._ " he breathed hot into Daniel's ear, licking the inner curve and rubbing his thumb hard across Daniel's pebbled nipple, catching the taut flesh with the edge of his nail for emphasis.

Daniel gasped, a high sharp sound, and his eyes opened wide at last. They were shockingly blue and a little bit feral. Jack felt the spiral of desire twining through his gut and whirl out of his control as they stared at each other, the last eight years arcing between them like a long, drawn out, crazy courtship dance.

Daniel growled and struck, quicker than Jack had thought he could move. He flipped them around, pinning Jack against the wall. One more frozen moment of eye contact, bright blue against dark chocolate brown, and then Daniel held Jack down and kissed him, taking possession of his mouth almost savagely.

Jack could feel noises coming out of his throat, but Daniel was sucking his tongue and pinning his arms to the wall with those delicate, beautiful hands, and nothing else really mattered. A solid thigh, heavy with muscle, slid between his legs and he whined a little, arching his back and spreading his legs, exactly where he wanted to be.

There was a double _thunk_ as Daniel pulled his hands away from Jack's biceps to slap them down on either side of Jack's head. He was kissing and biting Jack's neck and he raised his head a little to mutter, "Take off your shirt, Jack."

"annh…mmmgnnghh…"

Daniel rubbed aggressively with his thigh and Jack gasp/screamed a little and writhed to get more pressure, fisting the soft material of Daniel's shirt. Daniel moved back a little, shifting one hands to pin Jack's hip to the wall and gripping the back of Jack's neck with the other.

"Take. Your shirt. Off. Jack."

That goddamned sex-rough voice rearranged Jack's insides. Jack swallowed with difficulty and peeled open his eyes. Daniel looked sleepy-eyed and intent, his mouth wet and his pouty mouth kiss-stung and swollen. He was looking at Jack with more hunger, more intensity, more _need_ than he'd ever shown around that pretty Canadian. All that desire, finally, for him.

For a moment, Jack's heart was so full it hurt.

"No," he managed, around the lump in his throat. Daniel looked confused, blinking like he did when Sam proposed blowing up suns and such. Jack had always loved that look. It made him feel less stupid.

He kissed Daniel for that look, licking his mouth until that hand around his neck tightened, making him feel owned. Then he sagged a little, surrendering to the heat sparking through him, his mind short-circuiting.

"Jack…"Daniel's voice was thick and demanding and Jack pulled away, panting. Daniel was doing what he always did – turned Jack's strengths into the perfect weapon against him, always for Jack's own damn good.

He said firmly, "If you're gonna make me scream like a girl, we're getting in a bed." He pinned Daniel with a fierce look. "My knees aren't what they used to be, you know."

Daniel's lips twitched, but he obediently backed off, untangling their bodies but leaving long calloused fingers wrapped around Jack's neck as if they belonged there.

Which, of course, they did.

Daniel tugged on Jack's neck, pulling him along. He reached out his other long arm as they walked, picking up his glasses first and putting them on, and then snagging a wineglass and downing the contents in one long swallow.

Jack balked a little then, looking at the wineglass for a second, "Daniel…" he said doubtfully.

Daniel tightened his grip, hauled Jack over, and kissed him.

He broke the kiss to say, "Shut up, Jack." And kissed him some more.

Jack's breathing was ragged as they eased out of the second kiss. "Fair enough."

"Good." Daniel left the glass to make rings on Jack's sideboard and pushed him into the bedroom.

Where Daniel proceeded to prove that, yes indeedy, he could, in fact, make Jack scream like a girl.

 

* * * *

 

 __

I've been through it all/And I'm an old hand  
And I'll understand if you go

 

Jack woke slowly, his throat raw and his body aching in unaccustomed places. For a split-second he couldn't figure out where he was.

"Daniel?" he murmured groggily.

There was a soft snort-gurgle beside him, barely a break in the gentle snoring. "Earth, Jack." The snoring continued, barely broken during the intimate ritual of a thousand worlds.

"Mmm." Jack began to drift off again.

He heard the snoring stop just as the significance of the answer popped his eyes open.

Thoughts cascaded through his head, every one a reason why he should get up and leave, run without looking back, flee, do not pass go, do not collect one hundred dollars.

Go Directly To Jail.

Beside him he could feel Daniel tense. Another moment and the younger man would reach over and secure his glasses, put them over those open blue eyes like armored glass. And Danny would become Daniel again, his heart open to everyone, but forever closed in that secret place that only Jack knew.

Daniel – who'd arrived at the SGC with nothing but the clothes on his back and had engineered a miracle.

Daniel – who'd lost his life protecting Jack, and had apparently decided to make a career out of it.

Daniel – who had come back from the dead more times than Jack could count, even with his boots off, mostly to save other people's asses.

Daniel – who was always, _always_ giving up his home for the 'greater good.'

 _Because he knows that in the end, no matter who else comes in here, you're it. You are the way home._

 _I've done way too many damn distasteful things for my country._ Jack thought with painful, exquisite clarity. _My country damn well owes me one._

He rolled over and pulled Daniel closer, wrapping himself around that glorious body until every inch of skin was touched. He wanted to absorb Danny's fear through osmosis and he tucked the larger man under him and blanketed him until he could feel his lover begin to relax.

"Earth, huh?" Jack muttered contentedly, purposefully breathing the words into Daniel's ear. Little fear shakes were subsiding. Later, he decided happily, he would make Daniel shake again, shake differently, shake harder.

Later.

They had time, now.

He slid one hand across Danny's stomach and pressed in closer. Little by little he could feel Danny's abdominal muscles relax. For once, he even knew what to say.

Unlike Benton Fraser, Jack O'Neill was, after all, fluent in Dannyspeak.

"So…we're home?"

Daniel inhaled shakily and pressed his body backward into Jack's. It took him a moment to reply. Jack didn't hurry him. He didn't need to.

He knew the answer already.

"Yeah, Jack." Daniel's voice was remarkably steady, but once again Jack could hear all the things Danny didn't know he could hear.

"We're home."

Jack smiled against the dark brown hair under his chin.

"Sweet." he said softly.

For once Daniel was saying _exactly_ what Jack wanted to hear.

Jack made a mental note to look up the word 'sextant' and tightened his arms around Daniel as he dropped back into easy dreams.

 

end

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Don't Go To Strangers  
> Author: Princess Golux  
> Fandoms: Due South, Stargate SG-1  
> Pairings: Fraser/RayK; Jack/Daniel  
> Rating: Hard R  
> Feeback: Yes, please!!  
> Warning: Slash, strong language, m/m sexual situations  
> Disclaimer: All characters owned by Alliance/Atlantis and Gekko. None of these characters are mine and I make no profit from this.  
> Prompt: First time sex after one of the lovers declares his intentions or  
> reveals his crush/affection/love.  
> Note: I spelled Ray's name the way Jack would see it in his head. It's _not_ a typo. The lyrics are from _**Don't Go To Strangers**_ by Etta James. I tried to make it smutty, but it kept trying to become schmoopy. Still…it's funny, at least. And you gotta love Jack.  
>  Thanks to kymbr for the fast and dirty beta!!!


End file.
